Of Scars and Sues
by DeceptiveSoftness
Summary: Because Mary-Sues and irritable Ishvalans really don't mix.


**[Spoilers for Scars scar and Ishval episodes as well as The incident between Hawkeye and Lust] **

**A/N: **Well, this is a weird. I was just on a delightful little site called the FMA wiki and I was randomly researching little tidbits of the manga that I'd slipped past and forgotten in my eagerness to see Alphonse happily re-bodied [Can you blame me?]. Anyway, I came across Scars wee wiki page. I saw his picture and somehow got caught up in how one dimensional Scars, well, _scar_ is. I mean, he got it when Kimblee tried to blow him up right? It isn't a clean cut, it's a facial scar but it just kind of looks like a birthmark.

If we take a look at Eds, Rizas or even Roy's scars, they _look_ like they were once gaping wounds, but Scars scar... well it just looks like something that's been drawn on, it doesn't give any real idea of the story behind it and, while I get that automail and burn scars are a wee bit more rugged then oddly symmetrical shrapnel wounds, it just struck me as weirdly profound and I felt I needed to write about it.

I don't do self-inserts and I'm telling the truth when I say this isn't one. I'm not Rochelle. I'm telling the truth when I tell you that I'm pretty damn average in height, weight and breast size. My hair does not ripple down my back in silken cascade of liquid midnight. My lips are not perfect, plump and irresistible, in fact, right now I have a god awful blister on my mouth thanks to my idiot braces. I am not as graceful as a gazelle with legs up to my neck. I fall over flat surfaces and sometimes have trouble getting into jeans that fit perfectly not one week ago. I'm simply creating a character who probably fits into the typical Mary-Sue category because I'm lazy and don't want to put the epic amount of effort I would have to into making her 'normal'. She will however, be fascinated with just how much Scars scar _looks_ like an actual scar now that she's seeing it in real life.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FMAB... I really, really don't. I wish I did but sadly, no.

**Warning: **Rated **K+ **to** T- **for light swearing and Mary-Sue-ness. Don't worry Rochelle isn't _that_ bad... Oh who am I kidding? She's terrible but feel free to laugh at her horrifying Mary-Sue-isms.

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**You Have A **_**Scar?  
**__By DeceptiveSoftness _**[Softie]**

Rochelle was _not_ amused. Well, she _was_, but not in a good way. She was amused in a very bad way. Amused as in entertained but entertained as in something had caught her attention like a dog with a bone and would not let her go. The emerald eyed girl wrinkled her small nose in distaste as she glanced around the dilapidated sewer. It was a dank, smelly place and the cold, concrete floor was wet. She could feel the dampness soaking into her fluffy pajamas and fought the urge to cry, the pajamas were her favorites and they had bunnies on them. _Bunnies_! 

She was in an stinking sewer Great. Now she just had to figure out how she'd gotten there.

The last thing she could remember was lounging on her bed with her laptop propped up on front of her as she re-watched the Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood series for the fifth time. She couldn't help it, it was just such a good show that it made her want to watch it over and over again. The characters had such depth and _life _in them that they took her breath away. She felt like she was right there beside them, living through the highs and lows as they muddled through their little cartoon lives as best they could.

She cried with Gracia and Elysia, she held her breath and felt the adrenaline rush through her veins at the sight of the Elrics fighting, she smirked along with Mustang as he manipulated his way to the top, she laughed with Ling, smiled with Winry, plotted with the Sins and she adopted a quiet, sad look along with Hohenheim whenever he was on screen. 

She _loved _the show. It was her _life_! 

Ahem, _anyway_, she'd been innocently lying on her bed watching Edward have his arm blown off by Scar when suddenly the screen started to act up. The image froze and the laptop started to make strange beeping, whirring noises that she _knew_ was not supposed to happen. Rochelle had sat up and, after whacking the machine few times in irritation, decided to knock it off and borrow her sisters to watch the rest of the episode. 

The strange thing was, the computer just wouldn't turn off, and the whirring noises were getting louder. In fact, they were so loud she was sure that the neighbors could hear. On top of the beeping, whizzing noises the episode seemed to start up again, or at least the audio did, the video was permanently frozen on Edwards shocked expression. The audio was weird. It was the sound of footsteps and rain and far away murmurs, rather than the characters voices and the beginnings of an epic battle.

Rochelle remembered poking at the laptop screen with a manicured fingernail and bemoaning her circumstances. She'd tried to pull her finger back only to find that the laptop screen was now shimmering like a pool of water and was somehow creeping up her finger and around her wrist. It reminded her vividly of that one time she'd watched the Matrix and Neo had downed that silly red sweet and gotten sucked out of the Matrix via a liquid mirror thing. The raven haired girl knew she was probably getting her terminology wrong but she'd never liked that film in the first place. Especially since she'd spent the weeks following walking around in a zombie-like state trying to understand just _why_ 'there was no spoon'.

She'd shrieked and howled and writhed as the liquid covered her arm and neck but it had done her no good. The goopy stuff had then started to _pull_ insistently on her hand and before she knew it she'd been shoulder deep in her laptop screen. It should have been impossible and her mind was still trying to cope with the fact that her arm, which was long and sharply by anyone standards, had fitted into a bare centimeter of space, right through the wide-eyed Elrics forehead. She was sure it was just some clever distraction because while she was busy marveling at the apparent rapage of the laws of physics her face was covered and once her head got dragged through the screen she'd lost consciousness and had woken up in a nasty smelling, dark and decidedly wet sewer.

The small teen gave a hiccuping sob before wiping the back of her hand across her runny nose and standing. She teetered a little on her feet but managed to steady herself on the filthy sewer wall just as an almighty blast echoed around the enclosed space and she was sent hurtling backwards. Rochelle swore as she landed painfully on her rear and felt her eyes prickle with tears. She didn't know what was going on but she didn't like it. Not one bit. The sewer was filled with debris and she could hear enraged shouting and gun shots in the distance.

While wallowing in self pity, Rochelle almost failed to notice the shape hurtling towards her through the smoke roused up from the explosion. She let out a frightened squeak and the figure suddenly stopped and turned towards her sharply, one hand raised as if to hit her. The girl couldn't help the tears that slid down her cheeks as she frantically crawled backwards and made frightened whimpering noises. This was officially the worst day ever. 

The dramatic, though annoying, smoke cleared after a few moments to reveal a tall, muscular man with silver hair and odd, red eyes. The most startling thing about his appearance though was the jagged X scar that drew its way through both his eyes. It was like the flesh had been torn away and white scar tissue had grown over it making the mark stand out clearly against the warm tan of the mans skin. He was glaring at her and Rochelle let out another terrified squeak as she raised her hands on front of her face.

"D-don't huh-huh-hurt meee!" She cried as fresh tears dribbled down her cheeks and her lower lips wobbled dangerously. The mans glare increased for a moment before a shout echoed down the sewer and he looked backwards with a small trace of apprehension. Rochelle realized with a jolt that she was in the way of him and his escape and made a quick sideways shuffle to try get out of his way. She was beginning to realize what had happened to her. Contrary to popular opinion she was not a _complete_ airhead. She did read fan fiction, thank you very much, she knew exactly what had happened to her.

Rochelle pouted at the sewer wall and started to swear under her breath in Spanish. Other people fell into water and woke up as demon kings. Other people fell into a well and found themselves in the Feudal Era with cute half-dog bishoens. Other people fell off cliffs and were kissed back to health by cat-boys or rescued by semi-naked werewolves dudes. _She _got sucked into a sewer and glared at by a mass-murderer. Why couldn't Stephanie Meyer write her life story and give her a golden eyed Edward who worshiped the ground she walked on? I mean, was it too much to ask for a fricken _break_? 

The red eyed man whom Rochelle had promptly and inspirationally dubbed 'Scar' was looking at her suspiciously so the teen raised her hands above her head and made her eyes as large and as pleading as she could. Despite being fifteen years old Rochelle was of a very slight disposition with wide jade coloured eyes and rich, dark curls that formed a wild halo around her heart-shaped face. She looked to be much younger than her years and coupled with her fuzzy bunny pajamas and the muddy tear tracks marring her face she looked nothing more than a lost, frightened child. Well, she _was _a lost, frightened child but that was besides the point.

The teen decided to take fact that he was still glaring at her as an invitation to stare back. Her eyes kept being drawn up to the scar on his upper face. It was unbelievably real looking and even considering that she'd been staring at the anime-ified version of it not ten minutes ago it was still really odd seeing an actual scar on Scars face. The anime didn't do it justice, it looked more like a peculiar white birthmark rather than the nasty battle wound that it was. Right here and now it was easy to see that it had caused a lot of pain when it had been made. The flesh at the edges of the scar tissue were pale pink and puckered and the skin itself looked stretched and tight around his eyes. Rochelle couldn't help her mouth parting in amazement at the fact that he actually had a scar. It looked so badass and set a nice contrast for the dark burgundy of his eyes.

"You have a scar, you actually have one..." She muttered sounding mildly awed and annoyed in equal measure. Why couldn't the animation people have drawn it properly. She wouldn't be so surprised if she'd known that the scar was much more than a skin discoloration or a bad bleach burn. Scar just glowered at her and flexed the fingers of his hand as though he was contemplating killing her just on principal. 

The mans crimson eyes narrowed and he obviously didn't appreciate her staring because, with a parting glare, he stalked down the sewer with a single minded determindness that reminded Rochelle of her fifth grade math teacher who liked to walk imposingly up and down the class and sneer down at her shoddy equations. Long division was _hard_, it wasn't her fault that she didn't get it with a meanie of a teacher like him. Comparisons to cankerous mathematicians aside Rochelle had made up her mind to stay far away from the un-animated Scar. That was a vow that lasted until he was almost out of sight and Rochelle realized that she really did not want to end up in a stinky, homunculus infested sewer all by her self.

_Gluttony_ was down here. As in the cute, tubby man that liked snacking on pre-schoolers and old ladies. And Lust... while perhaps not as scary as her diminutive partner she _had _made _Hawkeye_ cry and that made her something worth fearing and that was without her sharp, pointy finger-claws of doom. Rochelle felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at Scars retreating back. Why was he leaving her? She needed him! What kind of damsel was she without a tall, mysterious man to protect her! A dead one, that's what and Rochelle point blank refused to die before she met Vic Mignogna and got him to sign her boobs.

"WAIT!" She yelled but Scar didn't even pause so the teen had to scramble to her feet and race down the filthy passageway in her bare feet. She didn't bother to suppress a shudder as her toes squelched into something squishy but didn't stop either and eventually caught up with the fleeing Ishvalan. The man glared sideways at her and Rochelle was beginning to wonder if he had any other expressions. Then she remembered the rather scary smile he'd given Olivier Armstrong at the end of the series and decided that perhaps the glare wasn't _too_ bad.

"I'm scared and you're strong! Protect me!" she demanded. Scar shot her a look that sent shivers of terror down her spine and made her heart skip a few beats. "I- I m-mean, please p-p-protect me Mister Nice Strong Scar Man!" she amended but he didn't stop the threatening stare. Rochelle pouted adorably up at him, mentally frowning at the crick in her neck she was going to get from staring at him all the time, he was freakishly tall.

"No. Go away." Scar said eventually and started moving at a pace which Rochelle and her shorter (though unmistakably slim and toned) legs could not hope to keep up with. The emerald eyed girl huffed out an angry sigh before racing to try to catch up.

"Hey! You jerk get back here!" she yelled but he ignored her and Rochelle's pretty face twisted with heart wrenching sobs. She should have gone the other way. In her haste to not be alone in a zombie infested sewer she'd forgotten that the Elrics and Mustangs group were up above and she was regretting not thinking things through before she acted.

Scar paused to glare back at her before sighing in irritation and slowing his pace. "If you don't stop following me I'll kill you." he said solemnly and Rochelle let out a frightened squeak and waved her hands frantically on front of her face as though to ward him off. 

"Oh no! Don't do tha- Ahhhhhhh!" the tall Ishvalan was not the reason for Rochelle's scream, rather the hoards of squealing rats that suddenly ran between her feet and disappeared with frantic urgency into the dark. Scar narrowed his eyes and looked suspiciously out into the shadows and Rochelle found another reason why she should have gone the other way.

If their were homunculus in the sewers then they were there for a reason. That reason was Scar. She was standing right next to Scar. Rochelle started to whimper. She moved to run back the way she'd come when two crimson eyes gleamed out of the dank water and Gluttony began to laugh.

Rochelle really, _really_ wished she had of gone the other way as the rotund man grinned hungrily and launched himself at the duo. Rochelle threw herself to the side and curled up into a ball as Scar swiftly turned on the balls of his feet and slammed his hand into Gluttony's shoulder, cutting his arm away from his torso, and dragging an enraged screech from the homunculus.

Rochelle began to weep as she sat in the corner and prayed to the anime Gods that they didn't notice her.

**A/N: **Yeah, I know, it's a suckish ending but it's just kind of funny to see poor Rochelle in her bunny print pajamas facing off against Gluttony. Scar survives of course. Rochelle? I wouldn't hold your breath.

Ah, I'm so cruel to my poor little Sue!

If you _liked_ this then **review** and let me know what you think and, heck, if you _didn't_ like it then **review** and let me know what you think. Criticism is always welcome though if you're going to flame then at least make it amusing.

=3


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